


A Spoonful of Sugar

by ShadowMystXII



Series: Path of the Fang [4]
Category: Alice in Wonderland (Movies - Burton), Mad T Party Band
Genre: Appearances are deceiving, F/M, Gen, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, POV Original Female Character, Sneaky goodness, never trust first impressions, new place new life new family?, out of her element, trying too hard to make them like her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-05-29 15:45:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19403428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowMystXII/pseuds/ShadowMystXII
Summary: Perhaps doing secret Very Nice Things™ will make things go a bit smoother? At least that's the idea.





	1. The Guitarists

**Author's Note:**

> felt it ironically fitting to post the first chapter for my next piece on my birthday. too bad it's not my UNBIRTHDAY 😆🎩🎂🎆

Mally blinked at the small plastic shopping bag resting next to his guitar stands. The Dormouse’s steps were hesitant as he walked across the stage, nudging the bag with a booted foot. The plastic rustled softly, something inside shifting at the prods. He knelt down to hook a finger through one of the handles. Packets of spare strings and picks glinted in the afternoon light. He pulled a few out and looked closer - exactly the ones he preferred.

He quickly settled himself on the stage and began the process of replacing strings and tuning both guitars to his satisfaction. It was a pleasant way to spend a lazy afternoon since there was no show planned for that night. Even so, there was a never-ending stream of interesting folk that passed by outside the Rabbit Hole gates that provided visual entertainment to pair with the Dormouse’s familiar motions.

The sky was just beginning to bleed when Mally deemed his task satisfactorily completed. He leaned over to replace the second guitar, the plastic bag once more crinkling as he brushed it. A flash of colour in the bag caught his eye. From beneath the remaining plastic packets he lifted a fashion patch. A simple red shield with two swords crossed on top. Mally turned the patch over in his hand, running a thumb along the stitch work as a soft smile plucked at the corner of his mouth.

* * *

Thackery trudged into the green room lounge, collapsing into the nearest chair at the table. The raucous sounds of the rest of the band paused outside the door kept his attention pulled that way until the noises split and began to travel in different ways, a sure sign his friends were heading to their dressing rooms instead of the lounge. A half-smile tugged at a corner of the March Hare’s mouth as he listened to the voices fade away into silence. After a moment he allowed his body to slump forward, far enough to rest his forehead against the tabletop as his teal ears splayed across the cool metal surface.

He couldn’t think of many things he enjoyed more than performing for the humans in their park of amusements, at least not in this world. But by the Mirror, it was _exhausting._ The sheer amount of energy needed to not only keep up with the fast-paced music but also the Hatter and Alice and even Mally as they cavorted across the stage endlessly every night was staggering, and not for the first time Thackery found himself a little relieved to be done with the mayhem for a moment. The chaos here had a different flavor, a different sense than the madness they knew back home.

_Home_. Sometimes Thackery longed to be done with the T Party and be returned to the real thing, the long table in the meadow and him and Tarrant and Mally and endless tea....

The room around him pulsed with a weird purple-teal glow cast across everything. The Hare jumped back in his seat, the chair legs squealing harshly against the concrete floor. He took a deep breath and looked down. His hands were clawed against the edge of the table.

It took a minute to convince his fingers to uncurl and he quickly stepped away from the table. He spun around, reaching for the cabinets where they kept the tea things even as he teetered slightly. The glow was starting to fade and he didn’t want to think about why it had existed at all. No, right now, all he wanted was some tea, _some nice, calming, clearing, simple, any-month-of-the-year-but- **that** tea ..._

Thackery paused and blinked at the teacups stacked in the cupboard. He couldn’t put his finger on what about the cups was suddenly tickling something in his mind, something _known_ and _familiar_ and _**normal** to **him**_. So he stood there, hands resting on the cupboard door handles, head tilting softly to and fro as he studied the dishes.

A stagehand walked through the room and told him goodnight. He almost didn’t hear them and turned sharply to respond before they completely vanished out the other door. As he shifted to once more observe the cups, his eyes widened. _The cups._

“They’re crooked! They’re stacked slightly crooked! Nobody but us could do it like that! I wonder...”

The Hare gently took one of the top-most cups off the artful arrangement. He suspected their resident Mad Hatter but it didn’t really matter. The small visual reminder of their far-away home had done what had been intended. His hovering malaise was fully evaporated as he set about making tea, enough for the group he knew would be returning soon.

True to form, the rest of the Mad T Party Band burst through the lounge doors helmed by a giddy Mally and Alice. The group spread out, claiming seats and waiting for the unspoken order of who made tea when. The March Hare’s eyes had simmered completely back to their normal hues and he watched his friends contentedly.

It was only when Tarrant discovered the teacups and excitedly asked who had done it that Thackery realized he might have been wrong. The man’s glee was genuine, the Hatter never put on airs like that. As everyone crowded around to see, a shadow at the back door caught Thack’s attention and he could swear he had seen a purple hood and red eyes peering through the porthole for just a second. He looked carefully between the door and the band, and a new thought bloomed. When Tarrant turned to him, the Hare told them of finding the wonderful surprise earlier and that he’d suspected Tarrant, but apparently not. The group debated as they made their individual cups but soon the conversation floated to other topics. Thackery remained quiet, using his known fatigue as a cover as he considered words that started with _ **J**_ and _**F**_ and .... he glanced at the 12-month whiteboard calendar on the far wall. Unconsciously his eyes drifted to the third section on the top line. 

_And words that start with the letter M._


	2. The Singers

Alice was intently rolling up her sleeves as she stepped into the kitchen. Walking over to the sink, she at last looked up and froze. Where there was supposed to be an absolute cacophony of dirty dishes from an unplanned Unbirthday party the night before, instead sat a single, slightly damp kitchen sponge on the drain board. The entire sink and countertop were devoid of a single drip or splatter or used tea spoon. Alice whipped her head back and forth, taking in the completely out of place sight. The rapid head movement pulled her eyes towards the stovetop and fridge. Unconsciously she pressed a hand lightly to her mouth as she took a few quick paces to the other parts of the kitchen. A careful inspection proved what she had thought at first.

“Not just the sink, _the whole kitchen’s been cleaned._ But who? Not even Thack would have done the **whole** kitchen, even if he was doing the dishes.”

The singer cast about, trying to find a hint of the wonderful culprit. A pile of black fabric on top of the fridge caught her attention and she hopped to reach for it. Alice turned the worn beanie over in her hand, running her fingers lightly over the jagged purple line stitched into the brim. As little as she’d seen the actual article of clothing, there was little doubt in her mind who it belonged to.

With a soft smile, she laid the hat on the island beside the empty cookie jar. Turning, she began to unroll her sleeves as she exited the kitchen, suddenly faced with the unexpected question of what to do with her newfound free time.

* * *

Tarrant stood before the open door of the tea cabinet, staring at the multitudes of tins and packets and baskets. It wasn’t the sheer volume that had him frozen, no, having an infinite, everlasting supply of tea was crucial to the Hatter’s day to day existence. Nor was it the small collection of empty containers placed directly in his line of sight on the middle most shelf, a folded piece of paper tucked neatly between two tins. No, what had the Mad Hatter staring perplexed was that, for once, all the tins and packets and baskets were actually arranged. Someone had organized the tea cabinet.

Tarrant hovered his fingers over a few tins, reading the labels. The pattern the titles fell into struck a chord in the man’s head and he started. Madly he stooped and ducked and fell to his knees and climbed on the lowest shelf to see onto the highest one. At last, he stepped back and eyed the cabinet shrewdly.

“Someone has organized this tea cabinet. And they used _my_ organization system to do it. Very clever, whoever you are, very clever indeed. My great thanks, actually - this makes finding that one honey tea Alice loves SO much easier!”

He jovially plucked a single packet out of a basket on the third top shelf and began to hum to himself as he set about preparing the tea in his Alice’s favorite mug. Only as he was set to exit the kitchen with said mug did his eyes fall once again on the still-open cabinet, and the folded paper. He plucked it neatly and unfolded it with one hand.

The handwriting didn’t belong to any of his friends. Tarrant studied the note a moment more before nimbly tucking it away somewhere inside his vest and exiting the kitchen with a flourish.


	3. The DJs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp, it finally happened. the paddling around a dead fandom and making new fanworks all on my lonesome finally caught up to me and died with a very bad week of not writing at all for want of spoons. I haven’t so much as looked at my Notes app in days, much less the MTP folder and even more much less actually worked on anything. I guess we’ll see how this bodes for the immediate future of my MTP fanfic career. it was really good for a while there - I actually felt happy and breathing again, doing my craft. just it’s so darn hard to keep things going when you’re stuck with severe spoon rationing and get hit with brainfogmire like that. of course I’ll finish this piece, but it’s the writing gods know after that.

Dinah darted into the laundry room cursing her bad luck. The show was starting soon and it was her turn to DJ and how could she forget to wash her favorite white jacket?? She only hoped it wasn’t too noticeably grimy to wear, even being hidden away in the DJ T Cup as she and Nivens were during their brief shining moments.

She skidded to a stop in front of the seven neat piles of clothes arranged along the laundry bench.

It was easy enough to see which pile belonged to which Mad T member - Alice’s pretty lights and pastels; Thackery’s greens; Mally’s blacks and reds; Tarrant’s colour explosion. There was only a second’s long hesitation between the blues of Chessur and Absolem, not to mention her’s and Nivens’ nearly-identical piles of sparkling whites with only a hint of different colours amongst. Actually, the majority of her confused attention was divided between _where was her jacket_ and “who FOLDED the laundry? Most of this wasn’t even washed an hour ago!”

A chiming sound went up from her smartwatch and Dinah yelped, pushing her wonderings aside to dive for the two white piles and quickly rifle through them.

“No, no, no, where IS it, I’m going to be late!”

The redhead threw her head back in frustration, causing her eyes to land on a piece of paper hidden behind the white piles.

The hand-drawn symbol gave her pause and she blinked. Slowly Dinah’s head rotated in the indicated direction. A depreciating smile curved her lips as she stepped over to the pretty white jacket hanging serenely on a hanger suspended from the wall-mounted drying rack. 

“Thank you!” 

She shrugged into the garment and bounded back out of the laundry room, taking care not to knock over the hamper on the floor filled with nothing but black and purple clothes.

* * *

Nivens stared down into the teacup in his hand with a slight frown. The dredges of old tea sludged around the bottom as the White Rabbit walked quietly down the penthouse hallway. He hadn’t realized he’d finished the cup while he tapped away at his laptop until the most recent sip had flooded his mouth with cold liquid and bits of leaf matter. The need for fresh, piping hot tea was enough to draw the man out of his dim room and into the common areas of the penthouse.

This time of day, he doubted any of the other Mad T members would be hanging around - if anything, Mally would be asleep and the Dormouse preferred his own room if he had a choice. But as it stood, this rare pleasant Saturday had been planned for some time as a group outing, a chance to step away from their electronically-contrived madness for but a moment and breathe some different air.

Lovely Alice had convinced the boys to leave off pestering their Rabbit about not joining - something about the hustle and crush of so many humans in one place tended to make the man incredibly anxious. Nivens never could quite put his finger on it, but he and Absolem suspected it was a cross between the unfamiliar physical form he bore here and the White Rabbit’s particular brand of madness, seeing the space between seconds of every person around him, every tick of the clock screaming _late_ **late** **_LATE!!!_** In any case, it was enough to Nivens to DJ the Mad T Party their nights and the band to leave him to his own devices otherwise.

Rounding the corner, Nivens made a beeline for the automatic kettle ( _“a hotpot, Alice said”_ ) and started on the way to making a fresh cuppa. Myriad scents of tea tumbled out as he opened the tea cupboard and Nivens’ nose twitched. He breathed shallowly and ignored all the Hatter’s bizarre concoctions in favor of the mint and rosethistle blend gently pressed into a mid-level corner. On his way back to the counter, as he passed the fridge, a wonderment struck the man and he pulled the door open with a hiss.

He was not expecting a plate of cucumber finger sandwiches to be waiting on the top shelf. The Rabbit’s head tilted as he extricated the plate and studied the small foods.

“I wonder if Alice left these for me. She **would** be a dear, you know,” he mused aloud to the empty room. “In any case, there is no sign, so I call dibs.”

The man’s satisfied smile at gaining an unexpected tea snack froze when he turned and glanced up at the dinette table beside the peninsula counter. The countertop was strewn with cake stands and bell jars of all sizes placed over small mountains of pastries and baked things, some of which were still fresh and steaming up the coverings. The small nook table was set with things he hadn’t seen since their last proper Underland tea party, namely dainty platters and plate tiers all equally heaped with finger treats and sandwiches and small cakes. The things on the table were secured beneath the odd clear film they had been told was designed to help preserve leftover food or keep food fresh for transport.

None of which had existed from the time the band left to when he retired to his room only a few hours ago.

The kettle’s shrill whistle made him jump and he tore his attention away from the food … wonderland … to go back to what he was originally in the kitchen for. His gaze trailed back to the smorgasbord constantly as he made his cup and finally turned back around. At once his eyes alighted on something he’d missed the first time - a small folded square of paper resting beneath the outermost cake stand. He sipped at his tea as he strolled over and flipped the card open.

The whole vernacular of the note tipped him off, but the few scribbled lines at the bottom made Nivens arch a brow. He tapped the note against the countertop for a moment in thought, before replacing it beneath the stand for the others. He exited the kitchen and started the return to his room as quietly as he had appeared.


	4. The Mad

A long, deep sigh escaped Absolem’s lungs as he turned the corner into one of the halls of the Mad T Party backstage. The animated conversation of his band mates echoed off the walls and grew fainter as the two parties moved further away from each other. After a time, Absolem found himself surrounded by silence by the time he arrived at the door marked with his name. The dressing room was sparse - the Caterpillar didn’t require as much space or material things as some of his counterparts did _*coughcough* Hatter *coughcough*_. He neatly changed from the stage clothes to a more elegant, streamline blue tunic and pants and hung the costume up to be laundered before their next performance. 

His gaze strayed to the small relaxing area beside the vanity. A pile of pillows shoved into the corner with a small hookah set on a table. Absolem debated taking a few moments to clear his mind but the thought was immediately dispelled when he suddenly recalled that the small supply of shisha he kept in the backstage had been finished two days ago during a particularly bad bout of Madness on the Hatter’s part. Absolem sighed - his Underland supply was starting to wear thin and he dreaded the day he would have no choice but to convert completely to Human equivalents.

With another, more grumbling sigh, Absolem gathered up a small satchel he kept with him and moved to exit the room. His foot knocked something set beside the door jamb, making the Caterpillar pinwheel his arms to maintain balance. The man glared down at the plain, offending box before quickly snatching it up. It weighed next to nothing but he could feel something inside rustling. With an impatient yank the lid hissed off.

Absolem shook the container and tilted it towards the light to get a better view. His yellow eyes softened as his gaze trailed over the array of fine mesh baggies tied with satin ribbon, the leaves and particles collected in each one a welcome sight. Even under the hallway’s harsh fluorescent lights, he easily picked out muted, dried colours he knew so very well. A small flower bulb nestled in the center of the box and a teasing aroma was beginning to waft from the box.

A flash of tan in his other hand stubbornly drew his attention. A stained label was pasted to the underside of the box lid.

“You are certainly full of surprises, that one.” The Caterpillar resealed the box and reentered his dressing room to secret it away. This time, when he left the room, a knowing smile crept along his mouth, vanishing just as quickly. A quick stop by the greenroom lounge to let the others know he was headed to their shared penthouse and he vanished into the neon night.

* * *

The Cheshire Cat would be the first to admit lurking around the Mad T Party area wasn’t the most exciting thing to do while the world slept. The group’s shared penthouse even less so, but the comfort could not be beat. one by one, each Mad Partier had succumbed to their need for sleep and bid the Cat goodnight, leaving him to create what madness with their living quarters as he saw fit until he too would retire.

The urge to completely rearrange all the furniture was just beginning to creep upon the Cat’s mind when movement from one of the a-joining halls drew his eye. He froze where he was lounging on the ceiling and watched as a small, inky figure detached from the deeper shadows and stealthed across the massive living room in the direction of the kitchen. As it vanished through the door, Chessur coloured himself interested and floated along to follow.

The light spilling out of the open fridge door would have barely illuminated the female figure’s face for human eyes, but even in this form, Chessur has excellent sight. It didn’t matter though, he didn’t actually need it to know who was up and about at that hour. Incorporeally he leaned against the door frame and watched the girl stare into the machine before reaching and digging around. When she withdrew, she held two plastic-wrapped sandwiches. A satisfied smile lit up her face for a second as she closed the door and headed back for the living room. Chessur skirted our of her path and fell into step behind her.

He hovered behind her head as she navigated the beshambled room and folded herself into a corner of one of the couches next to Tarrant’s chair-and-a-half. Barely glancing at it, she reached over to pull one of the throw blankets off the chair’s arm and nest it around her legs. The Cat raised a brow - he knew something about familiar motions and he knew them when he saw them. He floated in a bit closer, crossing his arms to rest his chin on while he watched over her shoulder at the phone she pulled out.

The girl casually scrolled through apps and sites while she made easy work of the two sandwiches. Everything about her screamed comfort and rest and _home._ Chessur discovered he was starting to purr softly by the time the girl closed the phone and stood up. His eyes snapped open to saucers at the movement. He watched her take a few steps and look around the room. A new sound surprised him, a female voice speaking softly into the dark.

“Not as bad as that one time. Could be worse. At least the Cat hadn’t started on his usual antics yet, thank the Mirror for that. A bit odd, though. Hope he’s feeling alright. Ah well, c’est la vie.”

With that, she set about putting the room to rights and suddenly Chessur remembered all the times he had caused chaos in the penthouse at night only to find it all fine before the band woke up. He had assumed it was Absolem, or maybe Thackery finding out about his habit and making sure it didn’t put out their friends.

_No, instead it was this little sprite undoing all my hard work, and all on her own. A lot of work for no praise indeed_. _But why worry for me if I only make more work?_

She worked diligently and thoroughly, and Chessur could see her energy wane as the minutes ticked by. By the time she put the last throw pillow back, her steps were dragging and her head lolled slightly. A great yawn froze her for a moment but she shook it off and headed back to the kitchen.

Chessur watched the girl empty the dishwasher and bag up the trash for pickup, all in as quiet a manner as possible. He tilted his head when she went to the tea cupboard and stared at the insides for a moment.

“He’s fine, all fine, tea is fine for now.”

_Hm, but you’re not, little one. Have you been doing this since you arrived with us?_

The girl blinked and shook her head as she closed the cabinet. Glancing around the room, she nodded sleepily to herself and withdrew. The Cat followed.

She trudged back to the hallway she had emerged from earlier and vanished into the shadows. Chessur followed, an eerie curved mouth floating in the darkness behind the girl as she passed by two rooms and arrived at the last door of the hall. She slipped inside and gently shut it behind her, and the Cat could hear no more noise. He waited a moment, eyeing the name sign on the door, before he fully dematerialized and stalked to his own room. No shenanigans for the Cheshire Cat tonight. He didn’t have the heart to mess up all her hard work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here we are. the end. of this fic, perhaps of my short, incandescent MTP fic-writing career. life is strange, and weird, and I have loved my time here but spoons are required elsewhere. I have a few pieces left, already written, meant for a series after PotF was done. I may post them just to set them free. If you have joined me at all, I hope you’ve enjoyed your trip down the rabbit hole, and perhaps we will meet again. 
> 
> (also I may be more melancholy rn than is warranted, life is just being a b*tch and I’m job/apt hunting and it’s exhausting)

**Author's Note:**

> if you've followed me over from tumblr, you might've seen the original post of this piece a looooong time ago. Since I've been going along and keeping on with these particular drabbles, I wanted to spruce it up with some fun elements when I added it to this collection. Look for the new chapter versions on tumblr!


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